Bitch Media - languagehttp://bitchmagazine.org/taxonomy/term/43/0
enOn the word bitchhttp://bitchmagazine.org/post/on-the-word-bitch
<p>Over on the post that asks folks to <a href="/post/which-peta-campaign-do-you-hate-the-most-vote-now" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">vote for which PETA is most offensive</a>, someone says that by criticizing PETA, we at Bitch are just <a href="/post/which-peta-campaign-do-you-hate-the-most-vote-now#comment-574" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">calling the kettle black</a>. </p>
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<blockquote><p><i>Of course I'm offended by the PETA ad campaigns. As a long-time radical lesbian feminist, I abhor the explotation of the female body and the objectification of women as nothing more than sexual beings.</i></p>
<p><i>I would never give a dime to PETA even though I am also strongly in favor of the humane treatment of animals</i></p>
<p><i>However, how does its strategy of using &quot;shock&quot; to draw attention differ from your magazine? After all, isn't calling yourself &quot;BITCH&quot; simply a way to show how chic and clever and modern you are, how 'in your face' you can be, and how you like to flaunt convensional standards of language and cultural acceptance</i></p>
<p><i>The word bitch (unless applied to certain animals) has always been and is still a derogatory and borderline vulgar term for women. Old fashioned ideas? Sure. But so is not displaying naked women in suggestive poses just to sell products or ideas. </i></p>
<p><i>For &quot;Bitch&quot; to complain about PETA is disingenuous and hypocritical.</i></p>
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<p>I want to make clear up front that this post (as all of my posts) represents my own thinking, not necessarily the perspective of the organization... </p>
<p>The b-word is something I think about a lot in my work here at Bitch. All the time, actually. It's mighty strange to be the director of an organization whose title I'd long felt conflicted about (to clarify, I wasn't around when <a href="/about/founders" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Lisa and Andi founded Bitch</a>). (To clarify futher, because I'm obsessive like that, I've never been conflicted about the work we do; only whether it's best to continue doing it under the name Bitch.) </p>
<p>It's not that I didn't understand why Lisa and Andi decided to call it Bitch. As Andi explained recently in the <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/11/16/AR2007111601202.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Washington Post</a>: </p>
<blockquote><p>Bitch is a word we use culturally to describe any woman who is strong, angry, uncompromising and, often, uninterested in pleasing men. We use the term for a woman on the street who doesn't respond to men's catcalls or smile when they say, &quot;Cheer up, baby, it can't be thatbad.&quot; We use it for the woman who has a better job than a man and doesn't apologize for it. We use it for the woman who doesn't back down from a confrontation.</p>
<p>So let's not be disingenuous. Is it a bad word? Of course it is. As a culture, we've done everything possible to make sure of that, starting with a constantly perpetuated mindset that deems powerful women to be scary, angry and, of course, unfeminine -- and sees uncompromising speech by women as anathema to a tidy, well-run world.
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<p>It's for just these reasons that when Lisa Jervis and I started the magazine in 1996, no other title was even up for consideration. As young women who had been bombarded with the word for, say, daring to walk down the street in tank tops, we knew what kinds of insults would be hurled when we started publishing articles on sexism<br />
in consumer and popular culture.
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<p>How can anyone argue with that? </p>
<p>My major hang up has been that I know many women who have visceral reactions to the word, sometimes because they've had it hurled at them in abusive relationships. Several months ago, for instance, a feminist therapist friend told me some of the people she works with said they felt assaulted in what was supposed to be a &quot;safe&quot; space when she left some issues of Bitch in the lobby. My heart sank when I heard this. </p>
<p>My other main hang up has been concern that, despite what I think is huge potential to work with youth around issues of media literacy and media criticism, our title will continue to be an obstacle in these efforts. </p>
<p>But the thing is, whenever I ask people if we should consider changing our name, almost without exception, I heard a loud, NO! Even people who work with youth, or who have children of their own, felt that our title is an essential component to our work. </p>
<p>It's not that we're trying to be clever, modern, or even necessarily 'in your face.' It's that we're trying to claim the word bitch as something smart, powerful, strong. And yes, show that being uncompromising and angry is not just necessary sometimes, but that it can lead to positive change. </p>
<p>In all honesty, it was only recently that the scales tipped for me, affirming in my own mind/heart the fight for the word Bitch. I was waiting to cross a busy street. On the other side of the street a boy chased another boy and yelled, &quot;Bitch!&quot; when he couldn't catch up. </p>
<p>They were probably 8 years old. The way he yelled Bitch was... I don't know how to explain it... ugly... aggressive... mean... he was clearly trying to yell the most hateful thing he could think of at the other boy. </p>
<p>And I don't know how to explain this either, except to say that I had my first visceral reaction to the word. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I totally understood what the fight was about. That the only way to de-charge a loaded word is to use it, reclaim it, (re)appropriate it. </p>
<p>I'm not saying it's not complicated, or that we shouldn't listen to the people who feel assaulted by the word, or give up on trying to work with youth when schools tell us that they won't allow the magazine on their grounds, but that I think this work -- including using the word Bitch -- remains just as critical now as it did back when Bitch was founded 12 years ago. </p>
<p>I'd love to know what others think. </p>
http://bitchmagazine.org/post/on-the-word-bitch#commentsbitchinclusive languagelanguagelanguage reclamationoffensive languageradical lesbianismreappropriation of languagethe word bitchBitch on WheelsTue, 12 Aug 2008 16:52:09 +0000Debbie Rasmussen642 at http://bitchmagazine.orgAnd while I'm at ithttp://bitchmagazine.org/post/and-while-im-at-it
<p>motherfucker. </p>
<p>Why? </p>
<p>Where did this word come from? </p>
<p>Every time I hear it, a similar jolt goes through my body. </p>
http://bitchmagazine.org/post/and-while-im-at-it#commentslanguageoffensive languageviolenceviolent languageBitch on WheelsWed, 09 Jul 2008 06:29:26 +0000Debbie Rasmussen536 at http://bitchmagazine.orgI really really really can't stress strongly enough http://bitchmagazine.org/post/i-really-really-really-cant-stress-strongly-enough
<p>how much it shocks my heart to hear how often the expression &quot;you guys&quot; is used in everyday language, especially in social movement/radical community spaces. </p>
<p>I don't mean to be unsympathetic or humorless or heartless. Yes I understand how difficult it is to replace that phrase with something else. But I promise it can be done. And talking about love and revolution and radical politics and building a movement feels so much better once "you guys" is gone.</p>
http://bitchmagazine.org/post/i-really-really-really-cant-stress-strongly-enough#commentsexclusiveexclusive languagegendered languageinclusiveinclusive languagelanguageBitch on WheelsTue, 08 Jul 2008 02:18:36 +0000Debbie Rasmussen532 at http://bitchmagazine.orgBureau of Reclamationhttp://bitchmagazine.org/post/bureau-of-reclamation
<p>Tina Fey's return to the Weekend Update chair included a big dollop of support for Hillary Clinton along with an argument for taking back the word <i>bitch</i>.<embed src="http://widgets.nbc.com/o/4727a250e66f9723/47c30d85122981cf" allownetworking="all" allowscriptaccess="always" quality="high" wmode="transparent" id="W47c30d85122981cf" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="316" width="384"></embed><br /> This could only have been better if she'd held up a copy of <i>Bitch</i> magazine!</p>
<!--break--><!--break-->http://bitchmagazine.org/post/bureau-of-reclamation#commentsbitchHillary ClintonlanguageSNLTina FeyLove / ShoveMon, 25 Feb 2008 19:10:23 +0000Miriam Wolf278 at http://bitchmagazine.orgThe Common Guyhttp://bitchmagazine.org/article/the-common-guy
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One Seemingly Benign Phrase Makes a Man Out of All of Us </div>
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<p>Oprah says it. My yoga instructor says it. College students around the country say it. The cast of <em>Friends</em> says it, as do my own friends, over and over again. At least 10 to 20 times a day, I hear someone say "you guys" to refer to groups or pairs that include and in some cases consist entirely of women. I get e-mail all the time asking after my (female) partner and me: "How's everything with you guys?" "What are you guys doing for the holidays?" In informal speech and writing, the phrase has become so common in American English that it's completely invisible to many who use it. In response to my post on the topic, participants on<span class="small-caps"> wmst-l</span>, a listserv for women's studies teachers and scholars hosted by the University of Maryland, report that it's not confined to young people, nor is it an altogether recent development (some of the participants' older relatives used it in the '50s and '60s). Furthermore, the usage is beginning to spread to Canada, England, and Australia, largely through the influence of American television. (The full discussion has become part of the list's public archives: <a href="http://research.umbc.edu/~korenman/wmst/guys.html" target="_blank">research.umbc.edu/~korenman/wmst/guys.html</a>.)</p>
<p>What's the problem? people ask when I question this usage. The language has evolved, and now "guys" is gender neutral, they say. Even those who consider themselves feminists-who conscientiously choose "he or she" over "he"; use "flight attendant," "chairperson," and "restaurant server"; and avoid gender-specific language as much as possible-seem quite willing to accept "you guys" as if it were generic. But let's do the math:One guy is clearly male; two or more guys are males. How does a word become gender neutral just by being plural? And then how do you explain something like <a href="http://Heyyouguys.com" target="_blank">Heyyouguys.com</a>, "The Man's Search Engine"? Can the same culture that says "it's a guy thing" to refer to anything that women just don't get about male behavior view a woman as one of the guys?</p>
<p>Current dictionaries, such as <em>Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary</em>, 10th edition, tell us that "guys" may be "used in plural to refer to the members of a group regardless of sex"; but then, we need to keep in mind that dictionaries are not apolitical. They record the state of language and reflect particular ways of seeing the world. (This same tome offers the word "wicked" as one synonym for "black.") My 1979 ninth edition of <em>Webster's</em> includes no reference to gender-free guys, an indication that "you guys" had not yet become a standard form of address. </p>
<p>In "The Ascent of Guy," a 1999 article in <em>American Speech</em>, Steven J. Clancy writes, "Contrary to everything we might expect because of the pressures of 'politically correct' putative language reforms, a new generic noun is developing right before our eyes." Although Clancy doesn't take issue with the development (as you could probably guess from his disparaging tone on the whole idea of feminist language reform), his report ought to make us stop and think. During the same decades in which feminist critiques of generic uses of "man" and "he" led to widespread changes in usage-no mean feat-"you guys" became even more widely accepted as an informal and allegedly genderfree phrase. What Clancy concludes is that English contains a "cognitive framework in which strongly masculine words regularly show a development including specifically male meanings (man, he,<em> guy</em>) along with gender nonspecific forms...whereas in English, feminine words do not undergo such changes." In practice, that is, terms signifying maleness have been more readily perceived as universal than those signifying femaleness. Or, to put it another way, if you call a group of men "you gals," they're not going to think you're just celebrating our common humanity.</p>
<p>And this should trouble us. After all, haven't we been largely pleased by the way the media has worked to adopt at least a semblance of nonsexist language? Newscasters and other public figures make an effort to avoid obviously gender-biased words, and major publications such as the <em>New York Times</em> and the <em>Wall Street Journal </em>do the same. In spite of vocal criticism from those who view such shifts as preposterous, genuine feminist language reform has gained some ground. But as is the case with all advances brought about by feminism and other progressive movements, we need to stay on top of things-or else we may wake up one day to find them gone. This seemingly innocent phrase may be operating like a computer virus, worming its way into our memory files and erasing our sense of why we worry about sexism in language to begin with.</p>
<p>Up until a couple of years ago, I used the phrase as much as anyone, and I never gave it a thought. "You guys" sounds casual, friendly, harmless. In Southern California, where I live, it's positively ubiquitous. When two female friends told me one day that it bothered them to be called "you guys," my wounded ego began an internal rant: <em>I'm</em> a literature and gender studies professor, <em>I</em> know about language, <em>I</em> spend much of my time teaching and writing against sexism, and here were people whose opinions I valued telling me that <em>I </em>was being patriarchal. Impossible!</p>
<p>And then I started listening. I listened first to my own defensive indignation. Clearly, my friends had touched a nerve. Deep down I knew that they were right: Calling women "guys" makes femaleness invisible. It says that man-as in a male person-is still the measure of all things. </p>
<p>Once I copped to being in the wrong, I started hearing the phrase with new ears. Suddenly it seemed bizarre to me when a speaker at an academic conference addressed a room full of women as "you guys"; when a man taking tickets from me and some friends told us all to enjoy the show, "you guys"; and on and on. It was as if these speakers were not really seeing what was before their eyes. I experienced a sense of erasure, of invisibility.</p>
<p>Alice Walker, a vocal opponent of this usage, recounts how she and filmmaker Pratibha Parmar toured the U.S. supporting the film <em>Warrior Marks</em> and were discouraged to find that in question-and-answer sessions audience members continually referred to them as "you guys." "Each night, over and over, we told the women greeting us: We are not 'guys.' We are women. Many failed to get it. Others were amused. One woman amused us, she had so much difficulty not saying 'you guys' every two minutes, even after we'd complained" (from "Becoming What We're Called," in 1997's <em>Anything We Love Can Be Saved </em>).</p>
<p>Because it took me the better part of a year to eradicate this usage from my own speech, and after hearing friends-whom I've encouraged to follow suit-apologize when they slip back into it, I feel like I understand the problem from the inside out. Most of us are familiar with the idea of internalized oppression, the subtle process by which members of disenfranchised groups come to accept their own lesser status. We need to recognize that accepting "guys" as a label for girls and women is a particularly insidious example of that process. </p>
<p>Many people on <span class="small-caps">wmst-l</span> have offered alternatives, ranging from the Southern "y'all" or less regionally marked "you all," to the Midwestern "yoonz" or "you-uns," to the apparently unhip "people," which is associated, it seems, with nerdy high school teachers and coaches. "Folks" received the most support as a truly gender-free option. Some suggested "gyns" as a playful feminist variant. A more radical solution might be to use a word like "gals" as generic and get men used to hearing themselves included in a female-specific term.</p>
<p>Although the majority of those who posted and wrote to me privately viewed the spread of "guys" as something to resist (with many noting how they sometimes regressed), others expressed hope that the phrase would indeed free itself from masculine connotations over time. One professor writes, almost wistfully, "I, for one, have always liked the formulation 'you guys' and whole-heartedly wish it were gender neutral. English could use a gender-neutral term to refer to a group of people (or even to individuals for that matter).... I've had students (female) be offended when I've used 'you guys' to them, but I still like it for some reason." I think many feminists who find "you guys" acceptable would similarly like to believe that it is indeed nonsexist. It's a powerful phrase precisely because it seems so warm and cozy. But we ought to ask what we are protecting when we claim that "you guys" is no big deal.</p>
<p>Sherryl Kleinman, professor of sociology at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, has dedicated herself to eliminating the usage. She argues, in "Why Sexist Language Matters" (published in <em>Center Line</em>, the newsletter of the Orange County Rape Crisis Center), that male-based generics function as "reinforcers" of a "system in which 'man' in the abstract and men in the flesh are privileged over women." With the help of two former students, Kleinman developed a small card to leave at establishments where "you guys" is spoken (it's available to download at <a href="http://www.youall2.freeservers.com" title="www.youall2.freeservers.com">www.youall2.freeservers.com</a>). The card succinctly explains what's at stake in this usage and suggests alternatives. Kleinman reports that distributing the card has aroused some anger. After dining with a group of female friends and being called "you guys" several times by the server, Kleinman left the card along with a generous tip. The server followed the women out of the restaurant and berated them for what he perceived to be an insult. Christian Helms, who designed the card's artwork, comments, "It's interesting how something that is supposedly 'no big deal' seems to get people so worked up."</p>
<p>Most of us have probably had the experience of pointing out some type of sexist expression or behavior to acquaintances and being accused of being "too sensitive" or "too <span class="small-caps">pc</span>" and told to "lighten up." It's certainly easier just to go along with things, to avoid making people uncomfortable, to accept what we think will do no harm. If you feel this way about "you guys," you might want to consider Alice Walker's view of the expression: "I see in its use some women's obsequious need to be accepted, at any cost, even at the cost of erasing their own femaleness, and that of other women. Isn't it at least ironic that after so many years of struggle for women's liberation, women should end up calling themselves this?"</p>
<p>So open your ears and your mouth. Tell people that women and girls aren't "guys." Stop saying it yourself. Feminist language reform is an ongoing process that requires a supportive community of speakers. The more we raise our voices, the less likely it is that women and girls will be erased from speech.</p>
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<div class="author-bio"><span class="author-name">AUDREY BILGER</span> likes guys well enough, but doesn't want to be one. She is grateful to Kim Zick and Connie Grauer for prompting her to think about this and for giving her plenty of better things to listen to (see <a href="http://mrsfun.com" target="_blank">http://mrsfun.com</a>). </div>
</p>http://bitchmagazine.org/article/the-common-guy#commentsAlice Walkerinternalized sexismlanguageOn Languagepcpolitically correctSocial commentaryvisibilityyou guysSun, 01 Sep 2002 04:00:00 +0000Kyla544 at http://bitchmagazine.orgTalkshowshttp://bitchmagazine.org/article/talkshows
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<a href="/profile/lisa-jervis" title="View user profile.">Lisa Jervis</a> </div>
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<p>Talk shows are the scariest thing on the planet today. You think I'm exaggerating, don't you? Think about it: not only are they the lowest common denominator of American pop culture, but they're also—because they're in the form of "real" people talking about their "real" lives—taken to be some measure of truth. </p>
<!--break--><!--break--><p>A talk show pretends to be a window opened by the host; the audience thinks that it's seeing a clear, undistorted reality. But the view is anything but real—hosts, guest experts, and audience members all inject their own views of the truth into the words of the panelists, making the shows more like funhouse mirrors than windows. Talk shows are powerful propaganda, often masking a conservative, reactionary, restrictive worldview with an earnest desire to help, or a simple voyeurism. The host is always in control of the discourse, and she can run roughshod over what the guests are saying—by not listening, by twisting words to fit a preconceived notion of panelists' behavior, by putting words into the panelists' mouths.</p>
<p>When the topic is young women and sex, this kind of moralizing cultural static gets louder and louder. Take, for example, a <em>Geraldo</em> episode called "Teen Sex for Status: These Girls Are Out of Control," and <em>Jenny Jones</em>, "My Teen Daughter Is Too Promiscuous." The shows come pre-packaged with titles and the hosts' viewpoints; the experts come with agendas; audience members come with their own rigid ideas about acceptable behavior. In the parallel universe that is the talk show, like almost everywhere else, female sexual agency hides in plain sight. It can't be acknowledged—even when it's being spoken about and demonstrated. When panelists contradict preconceived notions—when they declare that they like the way sex feels, that they fuck just for the hell of it, when they are honest about their erotic lives—their words are willfully misinterpreted and ignored by an audience that must, for its own comfort, erase the reality of female pleasure. And because of the lack of a culturally understood language of female sexual pleasure, it's even harder for the panelists to express or defend themselves. The problem is not simply that individual girls get insulted and ignored by these particular episodes of these particular shows, but that huge chunks of our entire culture are built on the repression of female sexuality, and these shows are a symptom and a demonstration of that sad fact—and a mode of perpetuating it. </p>
<h4 class="subhead">Pleasure...</h4>
<p>Only two panelists even come close to describing sexual pleasure—Liz, on <em>Jenny Jones</em>, and Paradise,<span class="footnote">All of <em>Geraldo</em>'s panelists go by nicknames.</span> on <em>Geraldo</em>. Liz: "I like the feeling of sex. I like having orgasms." Paradise: "I do it because I get off on it. And I need to have an orgasm, too." And later, she gets even more graphic: "there are some things that hands just cannot do, and that's why I do it." Their words are gleefully inspiring. "Orgasm" is not a word that we expect to hear out of the mouth of a sixteen-year-old girl—because she's not supposed to be having any. And audience reactions show how much the general public would like to ignore the fact that many young girls are having orgasms. Often.</p>
<p>Paradise, in all her graphic glory, is ignored. No one on <em>Geraldo</em> addresses or even acknowledges what she has said: that pleasure is a valid motivation for behavior. Over at <em>Jenny Jones</em>, everyone greets this revelation with outright disbelief. Liz—by far the most outspoken of Jenny Jones's panelists—has said very clearly that she has sex purely for the physical pleasure it brings, but Jenny still asks, "What other reason do you have for doing all this sexual activity? Is it—you really just enjoy the sex? Is there something else..." Liz cuts her off: "I enjoy sex." Jenny has to keep pushing, because she's not getting the answer that she needs and expects: "...you're getting—what else are you getting out of it? Is there something else in it for you?" Liz flatly replies, "I just like the feeling of sex." Jenny has no choice but to change the subject. She hasn't managed to achieve a classic talk show moment, one where the guest, after some prodding, admits whatever it is that the host and the audience wants her to and the show can claim some twisted sort of victory. Jenny hides her failure by quickly moving on, never acknowledging that Liz has, in fact, answered the question, and her answer is the pure and simple physicality of sex. </p>
<p>Other panelists, because they don't use the language of pleasure and desire that Liz and Paradise do, leave themselves even more open to this kind of manipulation. Fuck-Delicious<span class="footnote">Because of the unacceptable-to-the-censors nature of this woman's nickname, they couldn't say it, and I'm making an educated guess as to what it actually is. Geraldo was reduced to calling her "F-elicious," which sounds oddly and unfortunately like some new brand of bubble gum.</span> comments, "I have fun when I'm out." Fun is her code word for pleasure; going out means having sex. A woman in the <em>Geraldo</em> audience asks the youngest panelist, "Did you join the group [the panelists call themselves "the Precious Players"] because you want to be down with the homies or are you just joining it because you enjoy it?" (Excuse me, just because you enjoy it?) Desire answers, "I enjoy it." Geraldo: "Well, tell us more about that. What do you enjoy about it?"<span class="footnote">This is a surprising question, because it indicates that he actually wants to know. But it's clear from his next question—"Do you ever worry about your future?"—that he's just trying to provoke the same sort of talk show moment that Jenny tried to get from Liz.</span> Her response, "I enjoy—I like partying with them," says nothing. She quite literally has no words. And when Jenny asks Sarah, "What did you enjoy about it?"—"it" meaning sex, of course—Sarah answers, "Everything about it." Clearly, this is open to interpretation, but in light of some of Sarah's other comments,<span class="footnote">Sarah said earlier in the show that she has sex "basically, [for] the same reason Liz does. I like it." She can't find her own words to describe her pleasure, but she recognizes Liz's words as powerful, and she is claiming that power for herself.</span> I think it's fair to interpret "everything" to mean everything about the way it feels, physically, to have sex. But that's not an interpretation that the host, the studio audience, and most of the at-home viewers can make. </p>
<p>Here's the problem: "Fun," "partying," and "stuff" make up the girls' vocabulary because they don't know any other words for what they're feeling. And since they can't use strong words, their weak ones can be misinterpreted and ignored. But there's something else going on, too: Network censors mimic cultural silencing, literally preventing certain words from being spoken. The choices are vague euphemism—to do "it" or to "be with" a partner—clinical correctness—"intercourse"—or a mouthed obscenity and a high-pitched bleep. Danielle, who describes her activities as "just a whole bunch of stuff," might have wanted to get a little more specific, but if she had she almost certainly would have been bleeped. <em>Geraldo</em> had almost as much bleeping as actual speech. If someone could just say, "Sexual pleasure is an important and valid motivation for behavior on the part of adolescent girls," "Fucking is a natural and positive thing," or "It feels good when someone touches my clitoris," maybe people would pay attention. Then again, maybe not.</p>
<h4 class="subhead">...Or Anything But</h4>
<p>When pleasure is denied, there's no motivation for the panelists' behavior. So hosts, experts, and audience members make some up. How convenient. Geraldo says at least five times that his guests are having sex for status—even though there are only two mentions of it by one panelist. He also comments that one of his panelists slept with her teacher to boost her GPA. Of course that's not true; it's just the easiest explanation. Paradise tries to set him straight. "No, I didn't do it to get a better grade...but he was all there. He was just fine. And I wanted to hook up. So I got with him." Jenny says, "Tina says she's at her wit's end trying to control her promiscuous daughter who says she doesn't care what her mother thinks, she's going to sleep with boys because she likes the attention." The girl in question contradicts this analysis, but no one acknowledges her. Also on <em>Jenny Jones</em>, "Sheila [Carla's aunt] says Carla believes sex is a way for her to keep guys." Yes, that's what Sheila says, but does anyone ask Carla? Hmm...a pattern.</p>
<p>Let's see, for motivations for sex there's status, there's grades, and, and—lack of self-esteem. Yeah, yeah, that's right. "For them to get into the situation that they're in, they must not have had good self-esteem," says a Geraldo audience member. Jenny's expert says, referring to how many partners the panelists have had, "It's not shocking if you have no self worth.... Obviously, all five of these young women don't feel good about who they are." This is such a common cliché about female sexual activity that it's not surprising how often it's expressed. But it's still dismaying, because there is no evidence to support the low self-esteem theory—in fact, there's plenty of evidence against it. <em>Geraldo</em>'s panelists are especially vehement. Candy Girl says, "I feel good about myself.... I have self-esteem, you know.... I don't let people put me down. I feel good about myself." Paradise asserts, "I don't regret anything I've ever done." Candy Girl again: "We value ourselves.... We ain't ashamed, you know what I mean?" But audience members, hosts, and experts don't know what she means; they can't accept that a teenage girl might like herself and also choose to fuck. Furthermore, a possibility that no one ever entertains is that the theory is backwards: girls don't have sex because they feel bad, but sometimes they're made to feel bad because they've been having sex.</p>
<p>The other stupid, wrong-as-it-is-ubiquitous thing that gets said about girls (and women) is that whenever they have sex, they really want love. Belma Johnson, one of Geraldo's "experts" who thinks that because he hosts some cable show about teenagers he knows what's inside their heads, says, "It's not about sex,...it's not about fun. It's about looking for love. It's about looking for respect." None of the panelists have said a damn thing to support his ridiculous statement. Jenny does the same thing: "I don't think it's about orgasms. I think it's about fulfilling something that's missing, thinking it's love..." Her comment closes a show where no one has said as much as one word about being in love with the boys she fucks or wanting the boys to be in love with her. Both Jenny and Belma are projecting their own expectations onto the panelists. It doesn't matter what the girls say; those watching can only see what they choose to.</p>
<p>Belma takes his denial even further and says that the panelists are lying: "I can guarantee you it's mostly talk.... This is not what teenagers are about. I don't even think it's what they're about." His condescending arrogance is bad enough to make you want to slap him silly—but his unfounded accusation is truly appalling. I wanted to heave a brick through my <span class="small-caps">tv</span> screen as I watched this idiot suggest that these girls were making it all up, that they weren't speaking from a powerful lived experience. </p>
<h4 class="subhead">Punishment</h4>
<p>False consequences are the next round of ammunition in the repressive arsenal. Oh, no, you'll have a reputation. Geraldo: "What do the kids in your high school say about your reputation?" Jenny: "What's this doing to your reputation? You do get called names?" A mother to her daughter: "Fifteen [men you've slept with]? You know what that is? That's a slut." I've said it before, and I'll say it again. "Reputation" is a misogynist social construction that functions (often extremely efficiently) to stifle female sexuality. The good news is that these girls aren't buying into it. Liz: "Yeah, I get called slut, tramp, but who cares? I don't."</p>
<p>Another perceived problem, linked to the threat of reputation, is the possibility of "being used." Again, these girls don't care. They recognize that you can only be used if you're not getting what you want. Tina [mother]: "Don't you think this guy is only using you girls?" Sarah: "Who cares? We're using him for the same thing." An extension of "used" is used up, as in this <em>Jenny Jones</em> audience member's comment, "When you get [to be] twenty-five, ain't no man going to want you, because you're going to be tired..." Jenny herself: "What if you are twenty, twenty-one years old, and you meet the man of your dreams, and this is the guy you want to spend the rest of your life with, and he won't accept you because of how many men you've been with?" The whole concept of being "tired" and "used up" is just a repackaged, modernized version of a-woman's-greatest-asset-is-her-virginity-which-is-a-precious-gift-that-she-gives-<br />
to-her-husband-on-their-wedding-night. The notion that if a man can't deal with a woman's past then he's not worth her time, or that spending the rest of her life with one man (or any man) might not be something every woman wants is outside the realm of possibility for the audience.</p>
<p>The most dire consequence the panelists are threatened with is so revealing of covert cultural attitudes that it's sickly comical; it'd be funny if it wasn't so depressing. According to a male member of Jenny's audience, "Some of the people who you think you're down with, they're going to pull you off to the side one day, they ain't going to tell nobody, and you know what? You'll be one of those people that be somewhere chopped up in half, hid in another state, you know?" Translation: Female sexuality is dangerous; men can't be held responsible for their violent actions when confronted with it; it's all the woman's fault for making herself available to be chopped up in the first place.</p>
<h4 class="subhead">So What's Really Going On Here?</h4>
<p>Behind the fear of sexuality is a fear of female agency and power. No one can stand the thought of girls and women doing what they want to do with their own bodies. What alarms talk show powers that be most is agency—Liz: "I'm going to do what I want to do when I want to do it"; Candy Girl: "I want to [it was censored, but she must have said 'fuck']"—and agency can only be seen as a thwarting of control. On <em>Geraldo</em>, the grave statement that, "these girls are out of control," is intoned over and over; on <em>Jenny Jones</em>, it's "sexually active teens out of control." But the problem isn't really that the girls are out of control, because they're not. What they have done is escape parental and societal controls to institute a control of their own. </p>
<p>These shows are a mobius strip of circular logic: a graphic demonstration of the various ways that our culture erases female sexuality, and how in turn those erasures function to keep women in their place. It's impossible to completely separate cause from effect—the only point that emerges with any clarity is that it all works together. Cultural fear of female pleasure and agency stifles both those feelings in women and the language they have available to describe it. Without that language it can't be shared with others, and the cultural fear and erasure is perpetuated.</p>
<p>As viewers, we must constantly remind ourselves that the discourse of talk shows is always controlled by hosts and producers. That they frame the entire debate—from the out-of-context quotes taken from pre-show interviews, to the leading questions, to the final edit—is inherent in the format. A certain amount of conflict is good for them—it provides a frisson, a spectacle. But, as in any propaganda, nothing can be allowed to present a real challenge to the hegemony of the conventional. </p>
<p>As audience members say, "Girl, you need help... you got a serious problem." Yes, the panelists do have a problem—the problem of being willfully misunderstood and judged, the problem of having their experience denied and erased. Yes, they need help. They need help to make themselves understood, to develop a full language of female sexual pleasure and agency. But they're never going to get it from a talk show.</p>
<div class="author-bio"><span class=author-name">Lisa Jervis</span> only watches this crap so she can write about it.</div>
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<p>The Race Question</p>
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<p>The <em>Geraldo</em> girls are all Hispanic except one, who’s African-American; the <em>Jenny Jones</em> girls are all white except one, who’s Hispanic. I suspect that this is mainly a difference in the audience of the shows—the producers of each show probably seek out panelists who match the ethnic background of the usual viewer—but that’s only a guess. The only mention of race on either show is a comment from a Hispanic girl in the <em>Geraldo</em> audience who chastises the panelists: “You’re representing teenagers and you’re representing Latinos and Blacks.... Shame that you’re up there making Latinos and Blacks look bad.” Unfortunately, the <em>Geraldo</em> audience member is right to be concerned—not because these girls are representing their race, but because certain racist segments of the audience will assume that they are. No one on Jenny Jones suggests that the white girls are representing their entire racial group; their white skin privilege excuses them from that. </p>
<h4 class="subhead">Why the Sex Isn’t Safe</h4>
<p>On <em>Jenny Jones</em>, all passing references seem to imply that all the girls are using condoms, but it is never explicitly discussed. On <em>Geraldo</em>, it’s clear that they’re not. Yes, this is a serious problem that needs to be addressed. But like the ass-backwards low self-esteem theory that it supports, the analysis can easily be reversed. Part of the problem is that the moralizing, judgemental messages that bombard sexually active teen girls make no distinction between sex with latex and without. I won’t deny that putting yourself at risk for disease and pregnancy could be a sign that you’re not too thrilled with yourself. But it can also be a message of distrust of advice, especially from an adult, about anything sexual. </p>
<p>If sexuality was accepted as positive, if young women and those around them could know that their bodies are their own and that they should do what they want with them, they would be much better equipped to protect themselves. As it is, they’re being told that their behavior—behavior that is obviously incredibly important to them—is immoral, wrong, even false. So how can they be expected to use condoms? </p>
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http://bitchmagazine.org/article/talkshows#commentsBroadcastFeaturefemale sexualitylanguagepopularitypro-sexpromiscuityreputationsexsexualityshamestereotypestalk showsteensFri, 01 Mar 1996 05:00:00 +0000Kyla102 at http://bitchmagazine.org